Sunday, September 9, 2007

I was starting to believe that I was going to be able to escape mommy-hood without having one of those moments. You know the ones, and you've heard the stories. It was either you or your baby brother or sister, or maybe a cousin, but somebody somewhere that you know has played with their poop as an infant. Now amazingly enough we don't remember this wonderful time of play. But I assure you, as do your own mothers, that it did in fact occur. I had to consult with my mom about this as well. Apparently I played with poop as a baby, as did my older sister.

Now for some reason, we come to discover such small and unusual substances in our diaper. Perhaps because we are awake, or bored, maybe even both. It usually happens in the early morning hours when the parents are trying hard to get just a few more minutes of much needed sleep. So frequently while mom and dad are snoozing away, unbeknownst to them, their sweet angel is about to create the world's stinkiest masterpiece ever.

I am sorry mom for the mess I made. And sorrier still that you had to go through this several times before.

Well, babies play with poop. Sometimes smearing it on themselves as well as the walls, bed and whatever else could be in their reach. It happens.

So here I am with a two year old son who has never once discovered his poop, or even tried to paint with it. I thought, Lucky me! (Maybe that's why he isn't wanting to go poop on the potty.....?) He has also never pooped in the tub. Once again, lucky me.

Now I know that I wasn't totally out of the woods just yet. I still do have another child in diapers. She could still be my little Picasso yet. So there I was thinking I was so lucky, going on with my day to day business of washing dishes. The kids are playing with their rolling popper machines. My husband is milling around doing, well, whatever it is that husbands do while their wives are busy cleaning. (I'm assuming that it is pretending you are busy and staying out of their way.) I hear him come up behind me and start talking to Eddie.

My husband raised his voice a little, but it did not not cause a sense of concern in me. Eddie is frequently getting into things that he shouldn't. So I hear my husband ask Eddie, "What is that Eddie?" and my son responds, "It's ca-ca." (or poop) And then my husband, "OMG....... Mommy, we have a biohazard!" I basically dropped everything to investigate. I rounded the corner of the kitchen to see my son rolling over, forwards and backwards, some poopy balls with his popper toy.

He did an excellent job of covering about 4 large tiles. Oh and I must mention that he was trying to vacuum it up with his other favorite toy.

Ok, now Eddie had taken the center piece out (the handheld vac) and was actually trying to suck it up through the tiny nosepiece on the vacuum. Now let's ponder this for a moment. He made a mess. And now he was trying to clean it. And even though he created more work for me to do, I honestly have to give the kid points for attempting to clean. I had to laugh. Silly boy. So I've joined the ranks, I'm not getting out of this unscathed.

Today my child inducted me into the poop hall of fame. Eddie, I thank you. I love you very much, but please don't ever do that again!